For hours, we waited for Dungeon Master 09. Ultimately, the day came to an end, giving way to evening. I sat there at the edge of the fountain, eager to meet him again, but with no sign of him, my hope slowly faltered. Still, I was ready to wait a little longer. It was at that moment that Dungeon Master 07 declared with a sigh, "I think that confirms he won't make it to today's reunion, again."

  I looked at him, then at the moon hanging above, making the night a very clear one. "Isn't this a little too early?"

  He shook his head in defeat. "I understand the desire to wait, but these past sixty years, not once has waiting here till dusk ever borne fruit. You all either make it early, like you did this morning, or never make it at all."

  His words resonated well. While planning this journey, I made sure I wouldn't be late for this event, one that I'd been thinking about for the past 15 years. Had it not been for my frequent stops to harvest memories, I would've easily arrived in Miriandelle three months earlier than I did. Even then, I still arrived over a month before the agreed rendez-vous day. We, Dungeon Masters, being the same person, it was safe to assume that if he couldn't make it on time, he must have encountered something that rendered him unable to join, possibly like I did exactly ten years ago.

  I stood up, heaving out a sigh. "I guess you're right."

  Getting on the move, Dungeon Master 07 said,"Don't let that get to you; this is more common than you'd expect."

  I thought to myself, I understand you're trying to cheer me up, but damn, that's even more depressing.

  He then voiced, as he thought about his words, "That was actually a very depressing thing to say, but well, that's how it is. Let's consider ourselves lucky to have met already," he added cheerfully, turning to me. "That's worth feasting about. I know the perfect spot for that, it's the place I’m currently residing at. It isn’t far from here. It's not the most luxurious hotel in town, but it is the best hotel in town. They serve an otherworldly-tasting seafood."

  "Oh," I mused. That sounded familiar, but it couldn't be. "What is the place called?"

  "The hotel? Seagull's Nest. The name might not sound very reassuring but—wait, is it your hotel too?" he asked, having guessed from my expression.

  With a nod, I confirmed.

  "I suppose that's not surprising, considering the place’s reputation," he said, then asked curiously, "How long has it been since you arrived in Miriandelle?"

  "I arrived on the 37th," I replied. "Of this moon of course."

  He looked at me in surprise. "You were really early."

  "I didn't want to miss this day, after all," I explained, a thought straying back to Dungeon Master 09.

  "When did you start guesting there?"

  Putting aside the questions my mind spurred about his current whereabouts, to answer Dungeon Master 07’s question, I replied, "Since the first day."

  He frowned in confusion. "Then how come we never met?"

  I was wondering the same thing, but I had a semblance of an answer. I just lacked a little detail to confirm it. "Since when did you arrive?"

  "Two days ago. I remained in the Seagull's Nest, save yesterday as I was a little busy somewhere else. But even then, I mostly remained in the establishment most of the time."

  Understanding what happened, I explained, "I think I know why we never met." Seeing the question mark on his face, I elaborated, "Having come to the city a little too early, I got bored. I decided to head out for a change of scenery. I know it’s weird but I might’ve gotten a little too addicted to being on the road; just sitting in the city didn't sit well with me. So, I went around visiting nearby villages and hunting monsters here and there."

  Dungeon Master 07 nodded understandingly. "I can understand that feeling. I—" He stopped mid-sentence, his eyes widening as if coming to a realization. He suddenly turned to his side to look at me, well, less than a look it was more like a glare.

  "A problem?"

  "Not really a problem, but something I'd like to confirm."

  "What is it?"

  He seemed like he wanted to say something but then halted himself. "It's not something I'd like to confirm on an empty stomach. And now that I think about it, it’s also something I wouldn’t like to confirm on a full one. But let's talk about this later. Let's go," he said, resuming his stride.

  Soon, we were at the Seagull's Nest doorstep. Entering, I noticed the lobby was rather calm, being one of those days when the local bard wasn't performing. There were only a limited number of customers, just like the day I arrived. Two sat at the long table having dinner. Bosco, the owner, was talking to one of his daughters, the middle one. The youngest was in a corner tending to a customer, while the eldest was talking to the Captain, who was back from the journey that had kept him missing from the lobby for several days. When around the lobby was where he could usually be found when it’s meal time, be it breakfast, lunch, or dinner. Seeing him there, I realized he was back from his latest expedition, and just like I did, he was choosing what to reward himself with for tonight.

  Following Dungeon Master 07 to a seat in the left corner of the room, I exchanged a silent greeting with the familiar faces in the room, and I wasn't alone in doing so. Dungeon Master 07 did as well. The one whose Dungeon Master 07’s simple greeting had the most effect was the Captain, who upon noticing him, seemed ready to leave his chair but then froze mid-action in confusion at my presence beside Dungeon Master 07. As we sat in our chairs, he chose to sit back on his own.

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  The middle daughter intended to come to take our order, but at their father’s suggestion, it was the owner himself who came over. "Good evening, Miss Arianna."

  "Good evening."

  "Good evening, Sir."

  "Good evening, Mister Bosco."

  "What will it be for you tonight?" he asked, not mentioning what I could tell he was curious about.

  Feeling fancy, more than I usually am, I ordered, "Oysters Rockefeller for a starter, Seared Scallops with lemon butter sauce as a main course, and a Lemon Lavender Panna Cotta with Blueberry Compote for dessert." I then turned my attention to Dungeon Master 07, who was sitting across from me, and asked in a subtly teasing voice, "And for you, Grandpa?"

  The owner, given a hint of an answer to his curiosity, couldn't help but ask, "Grandpa?"

  I planned on jumping onto the occasion to make up a story on the spot to satiate his curiosity, but Dungeon Master 07 cut me short, doing so in my place. "Mr. Bosco, this is my granddaughter," he said with a chuckle.

  The owner's eyes widened as he couldn't hide his surprise. "I'm sure you must be confused as to why she's suddenly my granddaughter when just yesterday we seemed to go around seeming like we didn't even know one another's existence, right?"

  "Haha, I admit I am," the owner said, clearly intrigued.

  Dungeon Master 07 cleared his throat, preparing to spin a tale. "Well, Mr. Bosco, it's quite the amusing story," he began, his voice intentionally carrying a hint of nostalgia. "You see, Arianna and I gave each other rendezvous here in Miriandelle."

  I nodded along, playing my part.

  "Fate had it that we couldn't really give one another a precise idea of where and when our meeting would be. After all, it was a journey we were supposed to make together, but unfortunately, duty had it that I couldn't do that journey with her. It is only now that I could make it to Miriandelle, but still, I didn't know where we would meet. She wasn't where I'd imagined she would be, the temple. She wasn't there, so I assumed she didn't make it to Miriandelle yet."

  "Same for me," I added. "I was completely clueless of the fact that we were actually sharing the same roof."

  The owner raised an eyebrow, piecing the story together. "So you two just kept missing each other?"

  "Exactly. For the two days I was here, we kept missing each other," Dungeon Master 07 said, smiling. "It wasn't until today that we finally met. You can imagine our surprise and delight when we learned where we were guesting at."

  "It must have been quite the reunion."

  Dungeon Master 07 chuckled. "That it sure was. And now, we're here, ready to enjoy a meal together and catch up on lost time. In this place we, Granddaughter and Grandfather, found ourselves being drawn to."

  "It is an honor for me and the Seagull's Nest that you've chosen our establishment instead of anywhere else," The owner said with a sincere bow.

  "I'm sure you've got the opportunity to familiarize yourself with that tendency for her already. My granddaughter is quite the connoisseur of luxury and fancy things. For her to find this place so pleasing, you can stand proud. I really have to say that you and Otto did great with the establishment your parents left you with. They would be proud."

  "I can only hope they are, wherever they are now," The owner said, getting a little emotional over the mention.

  After taking Dungeon Master 07's order, the owner headed for the kitchen, leaving us on our own.

  "You knew the owner and the cook's parents?"

  "Yeah. I did. Let's say I'm a long-time customer of the Seagull's Nest. Bosco was this high," he said, raising his hand to the height of a small child, "And his brother this high," as he lowered the same hand by about four inches. "Their parents were a cute couple. The husband cooked great, and the price of their food and the price for a night in their establishment was everything a person could dream of, especially for someone who wasted most of his hard-earned money to cross the parting sea only to find none of the people he crossed it for present at the rendezvous point."

  "Hahaha... I see, sorry."

  "I wish I could say that you don't have to be, but no, be sorry for a couple of minutes for what I had to endure."

  "Yes, sir."

  For the dozen or so seconds I'd dedicated to repenting for what I did, or, to be exact, failed to do, I felt a glance thrown our way, and I didn't seem to be the only one noticing.

  "A friend of yours?" Dungeon Master 07 asked.

  "I was about to ask you the same thing."

  "I know him, but he's barely an acquaintance."

  "Same here. I talked to him and his people today, but that's all. It was in the line of duty, nothing that could explain him glancing at me that way. He looks fearful—no, it's not that. It's something else. Whatever it is, it's not me."

  "I don't think it's m—" I began, once again ready to deny being the cause of the captain's stare. But then, remembering the last talk I had with him, in which the man rambled on and on about conspiracies involving nobles and the church. At that moment I understood that the man was less fearful and more sheepish. "Never mind, it's me."

  "What happened?"

  "Don't mind him, it's nothing."

  "Alright, if you say so."

  Once we finished our dinner, we headed to a place to properly catch up, Dungeon Master 07's room, which happened to be the one adjacent to mine. His room was identical to mine, from the furniture to the rugs and the sheets. The only things that set it apart were Dungeon Master 07's belongings: a suitcase tucked in the corner and a neatly stacked pile of white tunics, each pressed to perfection, with a golden brooch bearing the symbol of a crescent moon and flower resting on top. Speaking of the tunics, they were no mere white garments; they were the uniforms worn by those of the Faith of the Three, especially the upper ranks of the faith. The brooch indicated that the uniform belonged to those who worshiped the Seraphim of Love, the Byg'm?k faith. The sight wasn't all that surprising, as infiltrating the faith had been a goal Dungeon Master 07 set for himself long before this incarnation. The fact that he donned the white tunic meant he did so with flying colors.

  Dungeon Master 07 who held in his hand a bottle of liquor, one he had chosen based solely on its price. Staring at the bottle as he took a seat at one of the room’s two armchairs, he remarked, "While I arguably look the part, I rarely get the opportunity to drink. Somehow, this feels like the perfect occasion." He then looked at me, asking, "How old are you?"

  "Old enough," I tersely lied.

  Dungeon Master 07 sneered. "I may agree that you look the part, but I've been around children and teenagers long enough to tell that you're lying. So how old are you exactly?"

  "Sigh... fourteen. I’ll turn fifteen in a couple of weeks."

  While he clearly expected my age to be below that of the majority, he didn't expect the number I dropped. For a moment, he sat there, sizing me up, trying to see if I was lying again. I was not.

  "And you? You look too old for drinking. How old are you exactly?"

  "No one is ever too old to drink," he said, putting down the bottle. "Besides, it's about time we begin. I'll keep this for later in the night, as clearly, I can't share it with a fourteen-year-old child."

  I felt like snapping back with a remark, but my curiosity about the situation in Fiendfell made me stay silent and listen.

  At first, we wondered who would begin first, me or him. Ultimately, it was Dungeon Master 07 who started, as per our consensus. His story was the most linear one to tell, and by linear, I meant it wasn't interrupted by sudden deaths like mine, which is full of them.